


At the Boundary

by Polarissruler



Category: Death Parade (Anime)
Genre: Attempted Seduction, Character Death, Death, Fate & Destiny, Gunshot Wounds, Inspired by The Visitor, M/M, Pre-Relationship, Pre-Slash, Shinigami
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-04
Updated: 2020-12-04
Packaged: 2021-03-10 00:48:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,092
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27875594
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Polarissruler/pseuds/Polarissruler
Summary: The shinigami came at the last hours of life to smoothen the dying. Clavis had a simple job - find Ginti, answer the questions, and help him move on. He never imagined he would have to fight a human. Much less that he would help that human fight against his coming death.
Relationships: Clavis/Ginti (Death Parade) - pre slash
Kudos: 2





	At the Boundary

**Author's Note:**

> For those of you, who read my Dreamwidth, this is the story I have promised some time ago. It is inspired by a yaoi manga called "The Visitor", where a shinigami comes to men, who are about to die. I'm sure you can guess where the story goes after that. I tried to strike a balance between hot guys and action, but I'm not sure if I did it right.
> 
> As always, any comments are welcome! (Including constructive criticism.)

Green hair, a yellow bang, red sidecuts. Impossibly fair skin, almost like a porcelain doll. Sleeveless black leather jacket, glittering with spikes, tight over the toned body. It could break at any moment, strained by his arms. Jeans - black again - constricting his legs. Clavis smirked. He had already taken a liking to that Ginti. Seldom the people he visited understood their desires to the last, faintest detail.

Lying on the electric lines, Clavis held the documents over his head. His lips slowly moved as he checked his host. If he got the wrong person, Nora's anger would burn for months. Clavis could hide in the mortal world, but the unlucky arbiters would bear it. "Name - Ginti," Clavis read silently. "Gay - and likes hot guys in tight leather. Red long hair, golden-brown eyes. Pretty dangerous since they will send three hitmen."

Behind the window, Ginti was lounging across an armchair. With one hand he was messing with his red locks - tangling hair around his fingers and drawing it out. The other hand was skipping through a small, colorful magazine. In the summer heat, he had forsaken shirts and left his sculpted body on air. Clavis's lips dried. An awesome night awaited him.

The wires barely shook as Clavis jumped off them. He flew across the street and with a dancer’s grace stepped on Ginti's terrace. The door was open - another blessing of the heat. Clavis could have entered anyway, but now Ginti would wake up much later.

Silent like a cat in the night, Clavis tiptoed to Ginti and crouched near his head. Ginti’s heat reached Clavis, his low murmurs and steady pulse burning through him. One chance. Once a secret came out, one could never hide it again. Eh, Clavis could, but he needed permission for any memory wipe. Nora would not allow it to fix a botched first impression. Clavis leaned even closer, his tongue almost licking Ginti's ear.

"Good evening," he whispered like a gentle night wind.

Ginti turned. With bestial rage, he reached for Clavis's neck, ready to break it with his powerful hands.

Too late. Clavis sprung, leaning back as if lying on thin air. He lingered for a second, smirking at Ginti, before landing on the tip of his toes. Ginti's mighty fingers caught only air.

"Who are you?" Ginti roared. A predator protected his territory. With a heavy step, he rose out of the chair. His pecs quivered from the sudden movement. No longer lounging, he showed his full size - taller than Clavis. His eyes kept flickering between the intruder and the safe in the wall. "Your gun will not help." Clavis walked closer.

Ginti opened his mouth to speak.

"Yes," Clavis cut in him, "I know about it. I don't blame you for suspecting me. If the man of my dreams broke in through the window, it would confuse me, too." He closed his eyes, smiling, and spoke softly, "It would mostly make me happy. But at least somewhat confused."

"You?" Ginti growled, less powerful than the earlier roar. "The man of my dreams? I'd laugh, but it's a pathetic joke. I don't waste time with obsessed weirdos. You can go." He crossed his muscular arms in front of his strong chest. "After you tell me how you've learned about the gun."

Clavis's gentle laugh rang like a clear bell. "The man of your fieriest dreams visits you and flies across your room, but you ask about a gun?" He walked closer to Ginti. The beast had hidden his claws, waiting for a reaction. Most prey would shiver and run. Any predator would fight back. "Will you change your question?"

Ginti snorted. "Don't move," he growled with his deep voice, "or you are dead." His golden eyes locked onto Clavis.

"Thank you for the warning, but I will take the risk." Clavis stepped closer. He could lean in Ginti’s face, press his lips over him. No, not yet. He would taunt Ginti as much as he could. "It seems I am still alive," he barely whispered. Unless Ginti stood near him, he would miss it. "What happened to your threat?"

"I'll ask one last time. Who are you?" Ginti aimed at Clavis' neck again.

"Too slow." Clavis had jumped while Ginti was speaking. "If you carve an answer so much, I should explain now." He stood, frozen in the air, one step away from Ginti's deadly hand. "Do you believe in the afterlife?" The dim lamp above his head bathed him in pale orange light like a halo.

"Are you some ghost? You cannot pass on so you have come to haunt around?" Ginti pouted. "Spit it out: how do I send you to the afterlife?"

"The opposite," Clavis threw him an angelic smile. "I need to take you there for my payment. Nothing personal, only business." He leaned on the air, hands in his narrow pockets. "You are going to die -" he pretended to check a watch on his hand "- very soon." Ginti swung his heavy, powerful fist. Clavis's delicate hand caught his punch and seized him closer. They were looking at each other's eyes. "Now," Clavis whispered again, "you do not want to anger your personal shinigami. Would you rather find the afterlife on your own?"

"Let me go!" Beasts took losing badly. Ginti anchored himself on the ground. He flailed his fist, struggling to shake Clavis' grip. His muscles tensed as he pulled as if trying to tear off Clavis's arm. 

Clavis followed.

The weight shift pulled down Ginti. His hand dragged Clavis. He fell over the hulking man, his head falling on his ripped chest. It moved as Ginti breathed, rising and falling.

"If you wanted me, you should have asked." Clavis' breath warmed Ginti's body. His heart beat faster.

"Get off me!" Ginti tried to stand up, but Clavis's hands pinned his upper arms down to the floor.

"And let you attack again? Nope, I'd take the safer way." Clavis pushed up himself and leaned forward until he was looking in Ginti’s eyes again. "Sit quiet and once I explain, I will let you go."

No beast worth their pride would surrender at the first cornering. Ginti struggled to turn Clavis over, to pin him on the floor. His legs flailed, pushed down under Clavis's knees. His arms could not budge a centimeter. He could headbutt Clavis, but would it help? Clavis could fly across the room again and wait for another opportunity. "Fine," Ginti grumbled, his voice low and heavy, "I'll listen.

"I knew we would reach reasoning!" Clavis loosened, letting Ginti squirm more. "You will die soon. I will make the process smoother. You must have some secret last wishes, questions, or deep regrets, right?"

Ginti exhaled. "I should accept your truth, huh? You still have not told me your name."

"I was a little busy avoiding you," Clavis replied. As Ginti's movements stopped, Clavis let his hands, but still draped over him. "I am Clavis. Nice to meet you, Ginti. Other questions?"

"What's that getup? You don't look very divine to me."

"This?" Clavis floated off Ginti, but still lingered near him. He drew a finger over the tight jacket. "Ask yourself. I am a god of death; we must seduce. Thus we take the shape of people’s desires." He extended a hand to Ginti. "Have I pulled the look?"

Frowning, Ginti rose on his own and tilted his head down to look Clavis in the eyes. "I've seen better twinks than you," he growled dryly. "Will you abduct me and drag me to hell now? No way I'll reach heaven."

"Nope," Clavis chirped. "I only come to answer questions and grant final wishes. Once you pass on, the boss will choose where to send you. Let's check -" the file appeared in his hands and he opened to the relationships page. "Distant from his family, close to no friendships, and silent on the job. A lone wolf, huh? Hey!" He moved left to avoid Ginti's swing. "Did we not leave behind that stage?"

Ginti aimed at Clavis again. "I should have kicked you out of here as soon as you come!" When desperate, even mice could hurt cats. He stepped closer and punched, his fist almost smashing Clavis' face.

"I hoped you'd learned your lesson." Clavis circled behind Ginti, perched on his shoulders, and crossed arms around his neck. “Must I pin you again? I'm not complaining if you want to spend your last few hours on your knees. I've heard many wishes, so I won’t judge." He leaned forward, so close to Ginti that their cheeks were brushing.

"A few hours?" Ginti grabbed Clavis's arms and pulled them apart as if they were strings. "How I'm dying?"

"I need a moment to check." Clavis arced his arms behind his back, making Ginti let him, and kicked him in the back of his knee. Ginti stumbled, like a broken tower.

"Warned you," Clavis said while the file formed in his left hand. "Love life… Interests…" He flipped the pages, licking his finger at some points. "Time of death!" He bowed down, his hair falling over Ginti's face. "Here!" Holding the file over his Ginti's eyes, he pointed to a muddied black line. "A rival group is going to kill you two hours from now. An hour and forty-nine minutes to be exact."

"Where? How?" Ginti stood up. Dirt had gathered over his naked muscles.

* * *

The motorcycle howled. Clad in a black leather jacket, Ginti rode it, throwing the speed regulation to the dogs.

"Do you plan to end in prison and skip the bullet?" Clavis asked. "No, it would break you faster. Why are you running towards your death, then?"

Ginti did not reply. He pushed the motor further, almost soaring in the sky. Under a red light, he shot across a crossroad, past a speeding car.

"Or you'll die before the time? It can happen, especially so close to your appointment. Fate is not picky." Clavis chased after Ginti, hands in his pockets. "Nope, then you would have left your gun at home."

Ginti was not running away. Like ancient knights, he dashed towards fate to fight against it. Such a foolish action. And just as charming. The dangerous, seductive style of visitors.

The motor's lights broke the black shadows and dragged them along for the ride. Death chased him on every step yet his heat melted its cold stare. He was not rebelling against his demise on a whim. No, he had been fighting it to a standstill day after day. No sensible human would ever find him normal. However, the strange and insensible attracted people like bonfires drew moths. It scorched and burnt them, but they forgot it in the pleasing moments between the fires.

"What fire burns through you, Ginti?" Clavis lay on his side, supporting his head on his left hand. "I'd die to know." He merely followed a flimsy desire to have fun that would end with the night.

"Do all of your kind never shut up?" Ginti forced the motorbike further. The engine roared. "What happened with the good old silent death?"

"I've been called a chatter before," Clavis smirked. Ginti could accelerate as much as he wanted and Clavis would still stay just behind him. After all, many fools tried to run from their death without giving a single fight. Speed to chase airplanes helped in those cases.

"My heart goes to all the other people you've guided." Ginti drove in a smaller street, away from the big roads. The traffic remained away on the main street. "How many people have you killed with boredom?" The motorbike moved slower.

"Nobody. We cannot do anything to kill our hosts." Clavis closed his eyes. "If anyone of us breaks the rule… Heh, I'm not looking for the punishments the boss can imagine."

"Even you have fears?" Ginti sighed, mist forming on his helmet. "What monsters are those higher-ups?"

"Afraid? Worrying over the consequences? Even if you shoot all people after your head, the world will still move." Clavis's voice lowered to whisper. "You could die in a car accident on the way home. A snake could bite you while on a hike. Then you will pay back. And you will not like fate's rates."

The dark rider pushed his stead again without breaking a sweat. "Trying to shake me off? No chance. If I die anyway, I'll push it as far as possible."

"So fearless. You must have seen all the darkness." Clavis leaned in the air near Ginti. "Wrong. Once you slip up, you will fall into a place where gang life becomes boring. You will bear the secrets, troubles, and fears of so many people… Perhaps that you call hell."

"You let me fight," Ginti replied. "Then you pretend to care about me. If you want fools to trick, go somewhere else." The bike charged swiftly, leaving Clavis.

"If people want to cheat death, orders are to let them.” Nona found her workers from somewhere. “No one of my hosts has fought before. They ran. Most of them spent the few hours they won shivering under covers. Then one in a million accident claimed their lives. But to fight - now you're a novelty. I don't want you to suffer because you could have changed your mind."

"And it has nothing to do with me showing bravery in front of you, huh?" Ginti turned right.

Clavis chased him. A sudden, cold wind pushed in his body and almost threw him back like a paper doll. A truck dove before him. He moved to the right. After the truck had passed, he drew fingers through his hair, fixing its shape, and replied, "Not at all."

"If you say so." Ginti took another sharp turn, barely passing by a roaring car.

Clavis flew past it, the wind grabbing him again. "Can you slow down?" He would survive any crash. Ginti's human body on the other side… 

"What, caring for me?" Ginti laughed and pressed on the bike. One last stretch remained. "Now you are saying you'll help me live through and protect me?"

"Nope. Saving you, killing you - for the bosses, it's all the same. If I change the fate, I will suffer punishment." Clavis opened his eyes and tilted his head up. "Best case, I lose my paycheck."

"I am just a paycheck for you, huh?" Ginti stopped. A street away, two men were talking. Some of the would-be killers. 

"Nope." Clavis floated in a spot near Ginti's head. "I've always hoped for a paycheck like you. Most people surrender and spend their last moments, drowning in sentimentality. Not unpleasant, but repetitive."

Ginti got off the bike and drew his gun from the holster. "Then expect more action. I'm not leaving those two live."

If Clavis corrected him, would it count as influencing fate?

* * *

Every trick of reality paled when compared to the harshness of disappointment. People imagined themselves above the order of the Universe. It reared up its head and - without a single action, just by existing - flooded their dreams with cold truth.

Ginti had shot the two hitmen after his neck. He had lived beyond the deadline - for good ten minutes. Then the third one - slowed by fate's whim - had sneaked and shot him in the back. His legs crumbled. Weak and dying, he fell over the two bodies, barely breathing and coughing blood. The hitman's gun was still smoking. Thin, dark wisps twisted in the air.

The fun ended. No matter how hard the heroes fought, death would come to them. Clavis had accepted it when he took the job. Ginti did not disappoint him. He had expected only that result. And he was shaking (not much, almost not at all!), only because he feared Nona's reaction. 

"Bas…" Thick, red blood filled Ginti's mouth. He spewed. With each beat of his heart, more blood pulsed out of his wound. Ginti had no power left. The pain crushed his chest, pinning him to the ground. If he dared to stand up, his lungs would burn as if on fire. His limp hand let the useless gun. 

Clavis had to speak. "I…" He gulped down. No sentiments, straight to the point. "I hoped for a different ending." He crouched near Ginti and put a hand on his cold, sweating brow. Only it was sweating - not Clavis' palms. "You paid with your eternity just for ten minutes, huh? Better die fast, or your debt will accumulate." Ginti's pulse was weakening, drifting away like a ghost.

"Ugh!" Every thought left Ginti's brain. The scenery, the stars, the roar of the streets - all melted in a white fog. All but him. He forced his body to turn. "Ouch!" Ginti gulped down the scream as his lungs tore apart. Arms stretched towards Clavis. The pain flared up at the shoulder and spread through Giniti's body.

"It should have been faster. One shot to the head. Sudden, painless death." Why did Clavis talk about possibilities that would never happen? He only tormented Ginti, showing him a different, more pleasant death. "It is not my fault," he spoke as if casting a spell on himself. Ginti had chosen to fight. Clavis followed the orders.

"Never bring death, only wait for it," Nona had instilled in Clavis' heart. What choice did he have? He prayed. Death's cold embrace had to end Ginti's senseless pain. Would it already devour him and end the suffering?

Ginti could not breathe. Each gulp for air hurt his lungs more, tearing apart the tissue and forcing more pressure on them. They could explode like balloons after each struggle. His lips had turned blue. "Cla…" Another spurt of blood over the asphalt. His hand fell down, his fingers yearning for his gun.

What punishment would Clavis face? Cold sweat burned his skin. Would Nona lock him in the pit to suffer alone until time has run its course? Would she take him as an arbiter, and make him watch over the ugliness of humans? Would he have to set fates every second of his existence, doom and save without emotion?

Ginti coughed. His dull, pleading pupils had become large pools of darkness. He collapsed on his chest, a broken piece of asphalt stabbing his wound. The black leather dug in the lung, sticking to it. A drop of blood fell on Clavis's pale skin.

Clavis shot. The bullet flew through Ginti's head. It pushed his soul out, sending it on a one-way trip to hell.

"Don't worry," Clavis muttered, "I'll follow you soon."


End file.
